Salt in the Wounds of Time
by Talicor
Summary: Mere weeks after the events of ESB, the Rebellion captures a most valuable prisoner... His execution date drawing near, a certain cyborg will have to make a choice. To die the perfect villain? Or live as a shattered hero?
1. Saving Grace

_Hello readers of FanFiction... I bring you a new story!_

_I have been struggling with depression a bit lately, and well... It kind of manifests itself in my writing, so I am taking a brief break from my other stories to throw this onto paper... However, I believe this will be a most interesting tale!_

_Hope you like it!_

_Leave a review, and lemme know what you think!_

_~Talicor_

* * *

Everything is dark. My hands are bound. The lifeblood of the Force, painfully far away from my striving grasp as I march forward, the rattle of chains accompanying every one of my heavy steps, blatantly announcing not only my arrival, but my current status as well.

I can almost taste the delicious fear of the figures at my side. They were sent to guard and guide me to our destination, yet they could not bring themselves to so much as brush the edge of my cape. I can hear everything. From the clatter of their assorted weapons as they attempted to keep pace, to the very thoughts within their narrow minds.

_... Can't believe it..._

_Skywalker sure outdid himself this time..._

The guards' words are silenced by the hiss of a large door opening before us.

The darkness around me lightens subtly. No doubt from a new source of light up ahead.

"This way, _Milord_," one of the guards sneers, attempting to put on a face of bravery, such as a child would against a petty childhood fear. The monster under their bed perhaps, but I know better. His fear is one of the most palpable there, and gives me strength as I resume my walk through the hallways. Turning my head, I simply stare at the origin of this false bravado.

He shifts away, disturbed. He can feel my power, even bound as it is, and even with my head covered, he knows I sense him, and know exactly who he is.

We arrive at another set of doors. Another gateway through which I pass. Another obstacle between me and freedom. It is of no importance now. For I have never been truly free.

The sound of my breath is deafening throughout the deserted corridors. Not a single soul, besides my group of incompetent prison guards and I, remains in this area of the compound. They are all gathered ahead, waiting surely, to witness firsthand the administration of 'justice' to their greatest enemy of nearly twenty-five years.

At the opening of a final set of doors, we are greeted with a bombardment of noise so drastic that my audio sensors screech painfully in protest as they adjust. Cries of _Murderer_! and _Traitor!_ shatter the air as I am guided to the center of the room, no one daring to lay a hand on me.

Taking my place, I stand firmly, becoming a statue before them as their leaders fan out around me. Mothma, Ackbar, Madine, and assorted others create this circle of condemnation. One being of import though, is missing.

"Lord Vader," the shrill voice of Mon Mothma cuts through my thoughts with their keen edge formed of hate and disgust, "You have been accused of multiple war crimes, including murder, genocide, espionage, torture of unprocessed prisoners, assassinations..."

Her words begin to lose shape before me as I delve within myself, feeling for the small thread that bound me to this life. Even now-_especially_ now- I could simply cut that thread, and let go... Escape this torturous cage of my existence... But in the face of what I knew must come, that was cowardice, in its purest form.

And I, Darth Vader, am not a coward.

Working my knuckles, I pull myself back to the current situation.

"... How do you plead, Lord Vader?" The voice of the Alliance leader cuts at me again.

Still bound and blinded, I look up into where I could hear the crowd, who, at my movements, fell silent.

"To these things of which I stand accused," I begin, the words to seal my fate hanging on my lips, "Even if I were not guilty of all previously said, the lust for my death would seal my fate..." Swallowing, I remain still, gazing into the souls of my persecutors, "I plead guilty to that which I have been accused. Do what you will with me."

At my simple words, a huge wave of shock and incredulity come crashing down upon me, even in my inhibited state in the Force. Even Mothma had not expected such words from me. If anything, they had expected me to summon a lightsaber and behead all before me. Instead, they received words sealing death upon me from my own lips.

_What does it matter in the end?_

Dimly, I feel the air vibrate with a chorus of voices screaming for my recompense. For my head on a pike. For the death of the Empire, for with my fall, it shall soon follow.

"Order! Order!" The Chandrillian shrills above the din, "We have devised a plan for Lord Vader! For he is no ordinary Imperial... But the one that has brought the galaxy to its knees! He has hurt every one of us in this room..." My attention perks slightly as she pauses, drawing everyone in. "Simple execution would be easy enough," she continues, "But there is _so_ much we can glean from this man-"

"That is no man!" The Rebels break out in anger, their emotions a light balm in this situation, "But a _monster!_ And a machine! He's too dangerous to be left alive!"

Suddenly, I am reminded of an all too familiar situation... One involving those same lines...

It was the day my life ended, and my existence as a creature of darkness began.

* * *

_"He's too dangerous to be left alive!" Glass shards dance about the room in a deadly game, electricity burning the air, as I stand amidst the storm._

_"A-Anakin... Please... D-Don't let h-him hurt me! I have the power to save the ones you love!"_

_"Don't listen to him Anakin!"_

_"I need him!" A lightsaber cuts through the air, and the Master is gone._

_I am no longer myself._

_I am a _**_monster_**_... A slave to the Empire..._

* * *

Again, I must force myself into the present, for my fate is to be decided. Right here, and right now.

"It is my suggestion that we allow Lord Vader to live." A feminine voice overturns the noise into silence, "At this point, he does not care whether he lives or dies! Killing him now would be doing him a favor! I say, let him live and learn of his crimes, see the full effect of how the other half of the conflict struggles..." A rumbling of debate fills the stands before me, as the option is considered. "He is too valuable of a source of information to just pass up! If we keep him, our chances of breaking the Empire's secrets will be all the greater!"

Quite simply, I am nearly dumbfounded at the actions going on around me. Someone was _vouching_ for me... Defending the life of the most hated being in the galaxy...

_Why?_

I could feel there was more to this than I could know... More than the wealth of information I had, at any rate.

With my sensors adjusted to the low rumble of noise, I could pick up snippets of conversation: "_Why yes... Lord Vader _**_is_**_ rather valuable..."_

_"Yeah! Death would be too easy for the monster... It'd be letting him go, and freeing him of true punishment..."_

One by one, the voices coalesced into a single thunderous rumble. It was the voice of democracy, and it cried not for blood, but for... Guilt.

"Let him live through his sin! Let him torture himself! See what we've lived through!"

"It is decided then!" The voice returns, light, yet commanding, "We will allot two months for Lord Vader's punishment, at which point, we will reconvene and decide whether he shall remain, or if execution is the better option."

Another roar of agreement, and I feel the dull end of a stun spear prod my back.

_It appears someone has finally grown a spine_, I think, recognizing the presence of my smart-mouthed guard.

Relishing his recoil of horror at the flick of my cape against his ankles, I allow them to follow after me to my cell.

I may be their prisoner, but that did not mean I could not destroy them if I so wished.

Someone wants me alive... And for now, I will play along.

Stepping into my cell, I turn to face the hallway before the door slides shut.

_Let the games begin._


	2. Spoons

_Hi! I bring you the next installment! It's a little short, but I hope you like it nonetheless! Thanks you sooo much for the reviews and kind words!_

_(Especially you **Froovygirl!**)_

_I hope you like where this story is going! This chapter I believe, has qualified for a rating change..._

_Anywho! Here ya go!_

* * *

Chapter 2

"So... How was the execution?" A certain Rebel drawls, slumped against the wall next to his bunk.

"... There was no execution... Weren't you there?" A fellow pilot responds, his uniform smudged with oil as he clambered up into the neighboring bunk.

The blond pilot shakes his head, pulling himself into the semblance of a ball.

"If there wasn't an execution... Then what did they do with him?"

His companion simply shrugged, "I dunno man... Ask Leia, you two are chums right?"

"Uh, yeah..." Crystal blue eyes avert themselves, "Hey Wedge... Can I-"

"Luke! There you are!" A familiar voice breaks off his words, "Everyone has been looking for you!"

"Speak of the Devil..." Wedge mumbles, taking his leave before the Princess of Alderaan could drag him into this.

"Leia... I-I'm sorry..." Luke confessed, scooting over to make room for his best friend, "I-I just... Couldn't do it... Not with him there..."

"Luke..." Leia's eyes softened, her slender hands coming to rest on his now shaking shoulders, "He can't hurt you... We are in control here, not him. This isn't Bespin..." Subconsciously, both pairs of eyes flitted to the pale synthflesh covering his right hand.

"You don't understand... You weren't there..." Luke shivered, before breaking away and getting to his feet, "Physical wounds heal... But what he did to my soul will never heal... Leia, he whispers in my dreams, making promises..." Another traumatized shudder, "I was hoping the nightmare would end today..."

Suddenly brutally aware of her actions in sparing the Dark Lord's life, she stood to face him.

"Something urged me to do what I did... Call it the will of the Force, but I believe there is a reason as to why Darth Vader needs to live..."

"Wait.." Luke stated, drawing away again, "You mean that you're the one that saved him?"

Leia simply nodded.

"He even condemned himself... Yet I felt I had to stop him from being killed... A strange feeling came over me, and I knew it would be a horrible mistake to let him die at that moment."

"You can't be serious!" Pacing now, Luke could feel the darkness plucking gently at his mind, like the song of a forgotten siren, it was strangely soothing, like a parent's caress after scraping a knee. The shadow wove music for him as a harp wrought of glass and darkness. Hauntingly beautiful, it spoke to his soul.

_I come only for you._

A smooth, warm voice rippled through the alluring music.

"Luke?" The princess placed a hand on his forearm, confused at his sudden pause. Eyes unfocused, he stared out towards the door.

* * *

"Hey guys... Watch this!"

The rough voice of a young guard whispered to the other three stationed with him as they stood sentry over the Dark Lord's cell.

"Dude, don't do it," One fellow Rebel advised, eyes never leaving the motionless Sith as the latter sat, cross legged, on the floor. "You know what they say about Vader... He's destroyed entire_ armies_ by himself! He will kill you in a heartbeat!"

"Psh!" The first scoffed, fingering the object in his hands, "You see those cuffs on his wrists? Those are special cuffs, ya see, it keeps him from using any of his 'special powers' on us."

"Rondo, you're insane."

"Where the_ heck_ did you get a Shaak magnet?!" Another added, staring at the decorative fridge ornament.

"I snuck it from Kenny's collection... Weird guy."

"Not only are you throwing magnets at the most dangerous being in the galaxy, but they're_ stolen_?! Rondo! You're going to hell for this."

"I know," the instigator shrugged pulling his arm back, "Totally worth it though!"

Before further words could be said, the guard expertly slung the magnet through the bars, giggling stupidly as it stuck with a _thwack!_ To the cyborg's ebony helm.

Unresponsive, the still figure of Darth Vader simply continued to stare straight ahead, respirator continuing in its endless rasp.

* * *

_Fools._

Uncaring of my current state, I simply stare at the mentally deficient Rebels assigned to guard me as they find entertainment in throwing assorted magnetized objects at me.

Feeling a prickle in the Force, I sense Luke's response to my call. Briefly, I can see through his eyes to the concerned gaze of the Princess.

_**"Luke? What is it? What's wrong?"**_

**_"N-nothing..."_** The youth shakes his head, attempting to push me from his conscience, **_"I just felt... Never mind... I'm going to go work on a ship or something..."_**

My concentration shatters with another_ thwack!_ of metal striking metal. It appears they have moved on from tossing magnets to cutlery. I was planning on keeping the malfunctioning cuffs a secret, but this might just force my hand on the matter.

* * *

"Whoa! It stuck!" The guards guffawed as Rondo managed to get a spoon attached to the now multiple magnets on the Dark Lord's armor.

"So much for this guy's infamous temper!" Another guard scoffed, "Dude's as complacent as a pitten!"

"Guys, seriously... This is_ not_ a good idea! Who knows when he'll snap?!"

"Shut up Reg," Rondo shot back, aiming a fork at the Sith, "If you're so scared, go get some caf or something..."

"Yeah Reg," The other two parroted, "Besides, if he was gonna snap, he'd have done it by now. He can't hurt us from in there anyway!"

Another _thwack!_ and a fork was nestled among the collection of magnets on His Lordship's heavy shoulder armor.

"Guys," Reg cautioned again, backing out of the Sith's line of sight, "I have a _really_ bad feeling about this!"

Fed up with his comrade's words, Rondo paused in his utensil throwing. Spinning around, to face Reg, he waved a butter knife.

"Did you take your coward pills today or something? Lay off man, we're just having some fun! Not like he can do anythi-"

The words died in his throat, and without so much as a gurgle, dropped like a stone, blood trickling from his mouth...

And a spoon protruding from the back of his skull.

Stunned, Reg looked up at his fellow guards, only to watch them fall as well, blood welling from their chests, the glint of metal betraying the cause.

Fearing for his life, the lone sentry activated his comm and screamed into it.

"This is Reg Vertilo! Stationed at Cell 66! We need a medic, pronto!"

Crackling to life, a voice answered him.

"Whoa! Reg! Calm down, what's going on?!" The officer at the other end gasped at the fervent rush of words, "Wait-Cell 66... Holy kriff! Don't worry Reg! A medical officer and Commander Skywalker are on their way! Don't let him past the corridor!"

"Thanks James! Vertilo out!" Reg panted back, blaster at his side. Ready and waiting for the explosion of power that would surely accompany the Dark Lord's escape.


	3. Ashes

_Hello everybody! I wanted to update last night, but had some technical difficulties!_

This_ update's a big one! Hope you like it!_

_Reviews are sought after and appreciated!_

_Enjoy!_

_~Talicor_

* * *

Chapter 3

He was almost to the hangar when the alarm came.

"Commander Skywalker! Princess Organa!" The small messenger panted, "Emergency at Cell 66! We need you immediately!"

"What is going on?!" Leia snapped, eyes widening with realization, "Vader!" Snatching her companion by the arm, she bolted off in the direction of said cell.

"Leia!" Luke yelped, stumbling a bit before matching the princess in her rapid pace, "What do they need me for?! I'm not on prison duty!"

"Well, you are now!" She retorted, slinging him around a corner, "You're the only person to have engaged him and lived!"

"Him?!" Luke gasped, skidding now as Leia continued to drag him on, "You can't be serious! I can't face Vader! Are you insane?!"

"If you consider protecting the lives of everyone in this base insane, then yes! I am!" The Princess of Alderaan panted, flashing her ID as they raced to the inner sanctum of the base. Cell after cell rushed by them in a rusty blur as they pelted forward. Searching for signs of destruction.

_ That's odd..._ Leia noted the perfect cleanliness of the place, no sign of a fight marring the corridors...

And that is why she nearly missed their destination.

"There you are!" A wild eyed guard sprung into the center of the corridor, the bodies of his comrades still lying in their blood as a small alien medic looked them over.

"What happened?!" Luke asked incredulously, his eyes resting on the morbid scene before him. "What is all this?!"

"Well, if you _must_ know," a somewhat shrill voice answered, "It appears we have three dead men, some spoons, and a Dark Lord sitting on the floor." The petite alien jabbed a bluish thumb in the direction of the cell door.

"Anything else Aelynn?" Leia inquired, "I thought Lord Vader was attempting to escape..."

"Psh!" The alien waved off, "This nut job of a guard thought Vader was aiming to break loose when he sent the message, but so far, the guy hasn't even so much as twitched."

Getting a better look at the golden eyed creature, Luke thought she looked a lot like a bird. A short, wingless, grumpy bird with antennae, but a bird nonetheless.

"What's wrong, never seen a Fosh before?" The medic snipped at the young Jedi after catching his curious stare.

"Sorry," Luke averted his gaze, taking in the gory scene before him as the traumatized sentry began assisting in dragging the bodies away. "I've never really been off of Tatooine before joining the Rebellion..."

"Tatooine eh?" Aelynn clucked, "It seems you and Lord Vader share a home world. Dusty, hot, and light years behind the rest of the galaxy."

_ What?!_ Luke gaped at this information, How could Vader, the most feared and ruthless being to walk the stars, share a home world with me?

There was one way... But it was one he didn't dare entertain.

"How do you know that?" Leia questioned, watching the Sith warily. Even sitting on the floor, covered in magnets, he was deadly.

Not bothering to answer for a moment, the Fosh swiped a key card on the cell door before strutting in, confident as ever, to stand over the Dark Lord. Pulling a certain Shaak magnet from his helmet, she fingered it for a moment.

"He was a good friend of mine..." Came her somewhat cryptic answer as she continued to pull random objects from his armor. "Always getting in trouble and winding up under my care after doing something foolish or impulsive." Her pockets now full of utensils and fridge ornaments, the bird-woman patted the still form warmly before turning back and striding out to join them.

Door sliding shut behind her, she was met by dumbstruck looks from both the Princess and the Jedi.

"What?" She looked up at them, "The guy wasn't always evil you know..."

Without explaining further, she swept out of the corridor and back to the medical wing, talons clicking lightly on the tile floor.

* * *

Stunned at the medic's abrupt departure, the two remaining humans locked eyes.

"Well then..." Leia sighed, "That was... Odd, to say the least."

Luke simply nodded, "Now what?"

"We have to find a new guard... Regular ones are obviously a bad idea."

"What other kinds are there?" Luke inquired, "And what would ensure Vader wouldn't just kill them too? He's only been in there for about an hour, and he's already murdered three people!"

Leia paused in her reply a sudden warmth spreading over her in the cool corridor.

_ There's that strange feeling again..._

"We post someone that won't be liable to antagonize him," She stated, "But who is also strong enough to hold his own against Vader in case he tries to free himself."

"You'd need a Jed..." Luke stopped mid-sentence, hand dropping to his side as he realized just what she was getting at. "You can't be serious!"

"Sorry, Luke... But you are the only Jedi we have! And, you've fought him before. That is something no one else can say they've lived through. "

"Sometimes I wish he'd killed me..." He mumbled, turning away from her, "It'd be no worse than the horror I've lived through since..."

"Horror?" Leia breathed, taking him by the shoulder, "Luke... What happened on Bespin? This self destruction is not like you... Where is the Luke that rescued me from the Death Star?" She added, looking up at him desperately. "I've already lost Han because of Vader... My planet as well... But I refuse to let him destroy you."

Swallowing thickly, Luke glanced away to the cell, eyes resting for a moment on the black monolith within. The rattle of Death personified echoing in his ears.

* * *

_"The Force is with you young Skywalker... But you are not a Jedi yet..."_

* * *

Disturbed by the snippet of memory, he shook his head as a familiar voice echoed down the hall.

"Leia! Commander Skywalker!" Mon Mothma exclaimed picking up her pace to meet them at the cell. Looking in at the eerily still cyborg, she clasped her hands. "I see that you've managed to contain our... Sith, here."

"There was nothing to contain, he hasn't moved since he was shut in here." Leia explained, her hand still on Luke's shoulder.

"Really?" Surprise lacing her voice, the Chandrillian's eyes flitted to meet Luke's briefly, "Then where are the guards?"

"They are dead Senator," An ominous rumble sounded from the cell door, a certain Dark Lord standing proudly behind the bars.

Unsettled, even Mothma flinched at his sudden appearance. It was all Luke could do not to scream in the face of the one that had destroyed everything he'd known.

* * *

Uncaring of their reactions, I continue to loom over them. Even separated by a barrier, my presence is nearly smothering.

"How?!" The obnoxious voice of the auburn haired woman returns, "And why?"

"Simple Mothma," I reply, working my durasteel knuckles, joints clicking and scraping beneath the creak of leather gloves, "They were getting on my nerves. So I decided to utilize the items they had so graciously allotted me to, shall we say... Terminate the problem.." I snarl sarcastically, smirking at the looks of horror and disgust flashing in her eyes. "I suggest you do not leave complete buffoons in my presence next time."

Stunned at my blunt vilifying of her troops, the Chandrilian Senator simply blinked in response.

"Duly noted Lord Vader.." She sighed distantly, avoiding looking in my direction all together, and addressed the two Rebels that had come at the guard's alarm. Both of which, were very familiar. "Skywalker, you've had dealings with the Dark Lord before, I entrust that you can serve as a suitable guard until we can work something out? You will be relieved of all other duties until then."

At this, I can visibly see him pale, even through the red haze that served as my world.

"M-Me?" He sputtered, hand reaching for a lightsaber that was no longer there, "I-I suppose..." His voice leveled out, a strange look coming over his face as he straightened, "I will do whatever you ask of me, Lady Mothma."

"Excellent," She smiled the wise smile of an experienced politician, "Now, Leia we have several matters to discuss..."

Bored, I simply watch as the two women meander off, leaving me under the watch of a traumatized Rebel.

"Well, that was eventful," I comment dryly, resting my hands on a segment of the door. "Looks like you'll get to know your father after all."

"My father died long ago," Luke snapped back, "And unless you know how to bring back the dead, don't talk to me." Blank faced, he returned to his position outside my cell.

* * *

Flustered and frustrated at his newfound duty, the young pilot closed his eyes, wishing that it had never happened. It had been only two or three short weeks since their duel that he had been part of the group to drag Vader's sorry carcass back to the Alliance. The cyborg had not put up much of a fight, despite the fact he could've killed them all, then and there, fairly easily.

He didn't know why, but he felt as if there were some grand scheme behind all of this. More than him... Maybe even more than Vader himself knew...

* * *

_Bring back the dead..._

Struck with an idea, I spin around and slink away from his view. With relative ease, I delved into the Force. Wrapping myself in all its power, I weaved an image of myself. Not as the fearsome cyborg, but as a more... Personable edition. Clearing my throat, and taking a deep breath, Anakin Skywalker returned to the bars.

"Well, that's unfortunate," I grin wolfishly across the hallway to him, my voice silken and light in its deliverance as opposed to the harsh, deep tone of the vocoder. "I had looked forward to the myriad of conversations we could've held. Anything to stave off the inevitable boredom."

Caught off guard by the sudden change, the young Jedi's eyes shot up to meet mine. Mouth working like a fish out of water, he did nothing save stare at me for several moments as I simply stand on the other side of the barrier.

* * *

This is insane... Luke simply gaped at the tall, limber form before him that seemed to hold a light natural grace about him that the cyborg held only a shadow of. Looking up at him again, the Rebel wrung his fingers. There is no way Vader could've brought him back.

"Are you..." He paused, mulling over his words, "Alive? Or am I just seeing a ghost, like Old Ben?"

"Of course I'm alive," Anakin scoffed, "Thanks to your friend the Princess, I never left."

"You're..." Luke began, drawn closer. This was the man he'd always dreamed of when he was little.. The one that would rescue him from nightmares, and take him away to the stars, "Unreal..."

Smiling coyly, the elder Skywalker looked him right in the eye.

"No, I am your father."

It was when he said these words, that the world fell apart.

* * *

_**"Obi-Wan never told you about your father..."**_

_"He told me enough! He told me you killed him!"_

_** "No... I am your father."**_

* * *

_I am your father..._

_Father..._

Luke's reality shattered in an instant.

As if in morbid response, the illusion surrounding the Dark Lord wavered, the ebony surface of his helmet momentarily breaking through tanned skin and sandy hair like the onyx skull of an unspeakable demon.

"Vader!" He barked, skittering back, watching in horror as the illusion's eyes burned a lucid amber, skin paling, before the form of Anakin Skywalker broke up, a rush of char and fire devouring the flawless features, leaving a familiar monster in its wake as the ashes swirled away on an unseen wind.

"So, you see the truth at last."


	4. Tears

_Hello everybody! I've had a SUPER crazy month! Sorry for not updating sooner, but the stress has coalesced into a new chapter! It's kinda short, but hey, I'm getting back into the swing of things!_

_~Talicor_

* * *

Chapter 4

It was long before dawn when she came.

On silent feet, the interloper didn't so much as stir the air in the corridor as my young ward slumbered, his peaceful expression betraying nothing of the inner turmoil I had felt the previous day.

The door to my cell scrapes open, and the slight click of talons is enough to break me out of my trance, the closest approximation to rest I could manage without my chambers.

"Lord Vader," The voice is barely a whisper to my auditory sensors, my eyes snapping open to face the intruder, though in my current cross-legged position, I have to actually tilt my head up to meet their eyes.

I did not have to look very far.

Before me was a diminutive alien, my head nearly level with the beaked mouth. Delicate antennae swaying, the Fosh locked brilliant gold eyes on me.

"Remember me?" She breathes, before placing a scaled hand on my shoulder, "I've come to help you."

_ I remember now..._ That voice was one I would not soon forget after my many times in the Hall of Healing during the Clone Wars, nor would I forget the skilled hands that had first mounted my prosthetic following the Battle of Geonosis.

I nod in response, knowing she would understand.

"Excellent," Without preamble, she pulls out a small pouch and tube. "I figured you'd be running low on nutrients by now... Can't have you wasting away on us." She smiled slightly, before removing the armor on one of my shoulders and opening up the concealed slit. The slight prick of an intravenous needle, and I can feel the liquid drip steadily into my veins.

* * *

Setting up the pouch so it would drip properly, the Fosh stepped out for a moment, eyes resting on the exhausted figure that was Luke Skywalker.

_ Poor boy... Why anyone should have to deal with Vader, so soon after being traumatized like that, is beyond me._

Out of habit, she tenderly brushed aside his mussed bangs.

"Father... No..." He mumbled at her touch, "Vader... Why..."

Drawing back, she pulled an emergency blanket from one of her many coat pockets. Tearing open the small packet, she spread thin thermal blanket over his huddled form, and taking his discarded jacket, folded it into a makeshift pillow to replace the cold permacerate floor.

"Sleep well, Hun..." She sighed, before returning to the Sith.

With a click of talons and the hiss of a shutting door, she stalked up to the Dark Lord.

"Alright, Vader." She snapped, checking the IV, "I know you're awake. We need to discuss the matter of your people skills."

Receiving no visible response, she clucked her tongue in disapproval before getting right in his face.

"Look at him..." She demanded, crest flaring, "Just look at that boy, and tell me that you don't care!"

Seemingly uninterested, the helmet barely tipped in the boy's direction.

"What is it to you whether I care or not?" He rumbled, cloaking the cell with a silencing blanket of the Force, "He is but a Rebel. I am a Sith Lord."

Why you karking little... The medic fumed, before hooking a claw in his chin vent, yanking his full attention to the huddled figure.

"Don't you feed me that kriffing shavit Anakin, that's your damn kid out there! He is all alone in this world, with the knowledge that his father is too busy playing 'Emperor's Lapdog' to even give him the karking time of day!"

In a flash, an iron fist closes about her delicate neck.

"That _name_ no longer has any meaning to me!" The Dark Lord breathes, easily rising to his feet, the Fosh dangling helplessly in his grip.

"Like I give a shavit!" She gasps, pain slurring her words. "It... Doesn't change the- ack!" The pressure increases, "Change the fact that I know you're... A kriffing liar!"

"Silence!" He snarls, "You know _nothing_!"

Hurt, she looks up into the eyes of Death.

"I know that there's a reason you let yourself get caught, Milord," she spits, gasping again, "It's not like you to simply... Give up."

Fury rolling from him in waves, the Sith growled in response, the noise amplified and distorted into something terrible.

"Whatcha gonna do?" His prey sputtered, "Kill me? Then... You'll only-!" Another struggled breath, "Prove to be the... Monster everyone thinks you are!"

Another flash of movement, and the bird-woman found herself crashing against the wall, unheard by any outside of the cell.

Holding her wounded shoulder in silent agony, she met the soulless eyes of the man who had once been Anakin Skywalker.

"It's time you've made a choice, Anakin..." She gasped, fighting back a moan of pain, "Are you going to die the Emperor's perfect little Sith?" Spitting a little blood, she tipped her head towards the hallway, "Or are you going to finally become the man this boy needs? Become the person you were meant to be, and live for your family?" Another hoarse cough, "That is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"You do not know who you are speaking to!" He snarls, fists clenched as he steps forward, looming over the crumpled medic.

"Oh?" A hoarse squeak of laughter, "I know who you really are... Do you anymore Anakin? Padme would be so disappointed..."

"Don't you _dare_ speak her name!" A great hand lifts the Fosh by the front of her lab coat, bringing her inches from his face.

"Why? Can't bear to think of what she'd say to what you've become?" The battered voice whispers, "Then prove everyone wrong... Be the good man she fell in love with again..."

The grip slackens.

* * *

Tortured, I drop the medic. Had they been flesh, my hands would surely be trembling.

"Leave," I grit, teeth clenched as I turn away from the abused doctor. When nothing is heard behind me, my tone becomes a snarl, "Now!"

Whirling about to punish her stubbornness, I find nothing but a few droplets of blood on the barren floor.

* * *

Bruised and broken, a certain medic stumbled through the corridors, crimson dew glistening on shattered feathers, occasionally spattering the floor when she fell.

The whole way back, she was smiling. Not to hide the physical pain, but to celebrate in what she had managed to do.

She had gambled her life, and it had payed off.

_ Food for thought Lord Vader... Food for thought._

Grimacing with the effort of hoisting herself onto a free countertop, the Fosh wasted no time in washing away the evidence of her little venture into the Nexu's den.

Hissing at the contact of disinfectant, and dabbing away the drying rust of blood, she did not stop the glimmer of tears coursing down her face.


	5. Regrets

_Greetings my dear readers! I am back from the dead! And with a new chapter to boot!_

_Apologies for taking so long... But I do have another fic up called __**Guardian **__that I believe you guys will like!_

_Check it out?_

**_Anyway... I hope you enjoy this installment of Salt!_**

**_~Talicor_**

_And come on! Would it kill you guys to __review? Seeing them reminds me that writing this stuff is worth it!_

* * *

Chapter 5

Luke Skywalker awoke to blood on the floor.

And the walls.

And his… _Hair? _

Shaking rust-coated bangs from his eyes, he slowly sits up, blinking at the harsh light radiating from his fa— no, _Vader's_— cell.

_I refuse to accept that monster as the man that gave me life._

But there was no denying it… Not after what he had seen…

Bitter thoughts drift through the Rebel's mind as he takes in the gory scene. Maroon splatters the floor in a wounded trail of lifeblood in the form of bizarre, three-toed footprints and sticky tufts of down, fused to the ground in congealed clumps of ichor.

_What happened?!_

Unsurprised, yet still disgusted and somewhat worried, Luke stood slowly.

Before him now, sits the cause of all this mess. Chips of broken light refract off the face of Death as the solid figure remains on the floor, breath rattling in the constant rhythm of existence.

"_You,_" The Rebel hisses, clenching a fist—artificial and pale—in resentment. Within that single word, he pours all of his contempt, disgust, and heartache he could, driving it at the monster that had so thoroughly destroyed his world.

He could tell no one of their relation… Couldn't release the fracturing stress that threatened to crush his soul—for if he did.. There would be nowhere left for him.

And he _knows _it.

That monster lurking in the dark.

The proverbial 'skeleton' in his closet. Ever constant on the edge of his existence, the ebon skull haunts both his sleeping _and _waking moments.

With eyes of ice, he continues to glare at the shadow, juxtaposed almost comically by the even and stark brilliance of the light surrounding it.

A slight rippling in the Force, and the dark nebula of the Sith Lord's presence undulates with purpose, As if seething and roiling internally over something of great importance while trapped in this cage of durasteel and ideas.

"Me."

The sudden word startles the young Jedi, and he jumps at the sound, causing a dark chuckle to emanate from the Dark Lord, empty and cold.

"You think you are quite clever… Don't you, boy."

"W-What?" The Rebel now steps closer, drawn in by utter shock at being spoken to more than anything. Since the Sith's arrival, the cyborg had not so much as _looked _ at him.

_Why is he suddenly taking an interest?_

Ever wary, he tightens his grip on the blaster that had replaced the once-coveted saber gifted to him by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

* * *

_"__Your father wanted you to have this… When you were old enough."_

* * *

Back then, he'd thought the weapon as something divine and sacred… A relic of the past—but its greater value lie in the fact that it was physical evidence of Anakin Skywalker… The father he had only ever _dreamed _about.

That all changed on Bespin.

The shining Jedi Knight from his dreams had turned into the greatest terror. A Sith Lord cloaked in eternal darkness and reeking of the blood of those fallen by his blade… Or even his bare, mechanical hands.

And now… He found himself swallowed up in an unforgiving, unending, nightmare.

But unlike the feverish dreams that had plagued him since Vader's return, this was not so easily escaped.

This was _life_, not a simple, petty nighttime scare.

"You heard me," the Dark Lord rumbles, light shifting across the ebon helm, lenses remaining hooded in darkness as he faces the Rebel, and the pilot shivers at the unseen brush of the Sith's eyes.

Stifling yet another shudder, Luke meets the shaded gaze of the cyborg.

"I don't think I'm clever at all… Just terribly unlucky."

Another slight, unnerving chuckle from the ebon form, and the skull tips slightly to the side, as if parodying a curious child.

"Alas… Fate picks favorites, does it not?"

Growing tired of cryptic answers, the Rebel turns the tide of conversation with a deft motion of his hand to the trail of blood.

"What is all this? Get bored during the night?"

The cyborg stiffens slightly, his previous air of nonchalance evaporating.

"That…" He growls, gloved fist clenching with the distinctive creak of leather, "Is none of your concern."

"I think when someone wakes up to what looks like a murder scene—by their _father_, no less— ought to have a right to know!" Luke snaps, crossing his arms. It sickened him to think of what Vader was capable of… What _he _was capable of, if he wasn't careful.

_I have the potential to be a monster…_

Shaking away the diseased thought, he stands firmly, waiting for a response from the demon that filled the father-shaped hole in his life. Filled it with nothing but pain, confusion, and misery.

"Luke."

The soft voice is alarming in the tense silence, and he whips around to face the source.

"Leia," he lets out a shaky breath, running his hand through shaggy hair as he steps away from the cell. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

_How long was she standing there?_

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she answers softly, laced with concern, setting down a bowl of soup for him on the chair against the opposite wall. "Mothma hasn't found anyone else to shift guard with you… Vader's too volatile."

Nodding solemnly, he joins her away from the cell, as if twenty feet would make a difference in whether or not Vader would hear them.

"What's all this?" She observes, motioning to the messy trail of blood and feathers, dried into a horrific rust on the smooth floor.

Taking the bowl in hand, Luke stirs it thoughtfully, glad to see something besides red and black as he watches vegetables bob pointlessly in the golden broth.

"Take a wild guess," he scoffs, finally taking a spoonful, the warmth reminding him that he was alive, when this isolation and mental ravaging had left him feeling dead. "You think the spoons would be the end of it?"

A look of disgust flits behind the Princess's eyes. There's something more though..

_Guilt?_

Catching her friend's studious gaze, she turns away, sighing.

"I'm starting to think this was a mistake… Letting him live, I mean…"

An ivory hand covers her face momentarily, and she looks over at the Dark Lord, ever motionless, ever lethal, sitting in his cell.

_What was I thinking?_

"He's done nothing but kill since being locked in here," he supplies, taking another spoonful. "I don't blame you."

"I know…" She sighs, dragging her eyes from the beast on the other side of the bars, "Something just…"

_There it is again._

A hot prickle races up her spine, causing her to shiver. Following it this time though, is a web of stars descending on her vision, draping everything in glittering threads.

Stunned, she can only stare as everything shifts.

Replacing the Sith Lord was a dark nebula of power, seething and rippling with power; as if he were made of sable flames, brief specks of light playing across the darkness, like stars in the void of space.

Beside her, a brilliant form stood, a silhouette of her best friend, light and warmth pulsing throughout his frame in rhythm with his heart, but as soon as she blinks it vanishes, leaving them all once again in a dimly lit hall, surrounded by blood.


End file.
